


Rigging The System

by zenelly



Series: JohnDave Week 2016 [3]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: JohnDave Week, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-07
Updated: 2016-07-07
Packaged: 2018-07-22 01:29:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7413142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zenelly/pseuds/zenelly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For JohnDave Week 2k16, Day 3 - First Date / Confession</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rigging The System

**Author's Note:**

> It's a highschool au! Specifically it's a romcom au where hilarious shenanigans occur.

It is the worst day that you think you’ve ever lived through.

You wake up late. Bro doesn’t have time to bring you into school, so you have to run through an absolute deluge of rain, which wouldn’t be so bad if your shoes hadn’t just gotten worn through to the point of holes finally, so your socks get soaked too, along with, well, the rest of you. It doesn’t help that you and Bro had a massive screaming argument last night that ended in a lot of slammed doors and a lot of pissed off feelings because what the _fuck_  did he think he was even doing, raising a kid like you but being the way he is.

So you are wet, dripping, by the time you get to school. Which is freezing, because of course the school doesn’t compensate for sudden cold fronts, so you’re even colder than usual and miserable.

(Plus, you don’t see John before class, because he’s already in his, because, oh yeah, again, late. Which, psh, doesn’t matter because whatever right? You don’t need that particular tremble of your heart to get your day started.)

Your things are all soaked, beyond all hope of saving. Including every inch of your homework, which your teachers universally decide to be assholes about, because they _all_  say they’re not going to take it. So you’ll have to do it again and accept half marks (for some of them) or not bother to turn it in at all and get no marks whatsoever.

And all your friends are avoiding you.

You don’t notice that at first, but Terezi is kind of hard to miss when she just giggles at something Vriska says to her and waves her hand in your general direction. She doesn’t come over. They clear out when you try to meet up with them. And none of them are there for lunch, and with it raining, you and John can’t eat on the rooftop like your stupid fucking animes.

Fuck this.

Fuck _all_ of this.

You’re pissed and tired as hell and about ready to just fucking give up entirely when school finally ends, and you stalk angrily down to your locker, which you haven’t even had a chance to _stop by_  today because of how much bullshit is going on and you just. Breathe. Take a deep breath. Lean your head against the cool metal of your locker. Blindly do the combination, then swear and pull away to do it again, only properly this time. Every delay just adds up more and more to your anger though, and you finally wrench the locker open.

To see a note.

You pause right before slinging your backpack in there (because you’ll be fucked before you take it home to deal with any of the rest of the bullshit tonight), which thankfully spares the simple, white note.

Carefully, you pick it up. The words “To Dave,” are written on the front, nothing on the back, and you open it up curiously.

> Hey Dave,
> 
> So you’ll probably think this is like, the lamest thing ever, which is dumb because you exist, heehee. But anyway, I was wondering if you could fill out the survey below and bring it to me when you’re done! I’ll be at the diner across the street after school. Milkshake or hot chocolate is on me.

You look at the bottom of the paper.

> Do you want to go on a date with me?

> ☐ Yes
> 
> ☐ Absolutely

And then lower still:

> (I rigged it.)

You.

You can’t breathe.

Of fucking course he’d make a Gravity Falls reference, the fucking loser.

You crumple the note in your hand, slam your locker shut without bothering to toss your backpack in there after all, and practically sprint out of the building. The diner isn’t far, just a block away, across the street, and you impatiently shift from foot to foot as you wait for it to be safe to cross, because you can see him. You can see John from where you’re standing and you _need_  to be in there _right now_  because you.

You need to.

Finally, though, you can cross, and finally, finally, you open the door into the diner, and John is already on his feet, turning to face you when you barrel into him and cling for good life.

His hand, warm, comes up to your shoulder, your back. You can hear the furious thrum of his heartbeat as you press yourself closer, even though you have to bend slightly to do it. It’s so worth it. You can’t think straight. You’re too happy. Too. Overwhelmed.

Because _yes._

“Is this a yes, then?” he asks you breathlessly, and you nod furiously into the curve of his neck, and you can’t even complain when he whoops loudly right next to your ear, when he picks you up and whirls around and finally sets you in the booth across from him, smiling his lopsided, beautiful smile.

It is the worst day that brings you the best thing ever, and you think that somewhere, in the cosmic, karmic sense of the universe, that it all might even out to be pretty okay.


End file.
